


sit by my side, and let the world slip

by moprocrastinates



Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: 10 Things I Hate About You AU, 10 things I Hate About You - Freeform, Angst, Day 4: Film/Song/Book Crossover, F/M, Jurdan Week 2020, Taming of the Shrew AU, jurdan week
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24432601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moprocrastinates/pseuds/moprocrastinates
Summary: “Most of all, I hate you because I think of you. Often. It's disgusting, and I can't stop.” - Holly Black, the Cruel Prince.They find each other in every lifetime, and hate each other in every other.(drabbles, prompts, aus, etc.)
Relationships: Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar
Comments: 20
Kudos: 112
Collections: Jurdan Week, favorite on TFOTA





	1. 10 things i hate about you au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For once in his short life, Cardan Greenbriar was speechless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The dialogue belongs to the writers of the _10 Things I Hate About You_ movie. The plot also belongs to them, and also Mr. Willy Shakes.

For once in his short life, Cardan Greenbriar was speechless. 

It was the kind of speechless that begets no feelings, no facial expressions. It was the kind of speechless that rocks one to their core, the kind that shatters every illusion anyone has ever had about themselves. It was a hidden, glorious treasure found, a still-beating heart broken, a terrified smile-kind of speechless. 

And it was all because of Jude Duarte.

Gods, he could’ve melted at the mere _sight_ of her. Days she’d been gone from his sight, avoiding him as much as he sought her out, and if he didn’t know any better, he would’ve guessed that she was not only trying to avoid him, but cut him out of her life entirely. 

She hadn’t spent all that time with him, hadn’t teased and taunted and flirted and _lied_ to him like that, hadn’t _kissed_ him like that if she didn’t recognize and feel those ruthless, all encompassing, death-sweet emotions as much as he. Love was the cruelest emotion, that he knew in spades, but he would happily succumb if only she would let him. 

But he’d fucked up, and Cardan was smart enough to know it. 

He shouldn’t have let this all become a trick, and especially shouldn't have made Jude feel like a trick herself. 

His friends Locke and Valerian were cruel, that much was obvious, but what was cruelest of all was willingly playing the game. They had taunted him, teased him for his attraction to the ruthless, judgmental, brave girl with the sword tattoo on her wrist, with a tongue and mind so sharp they could have edged themselves to a point on whetstone. Fire that felt like a sandpaper tongue licked through him when Jude’s ever-challenging eyes met his in their British literature class, so unbelievably fierce for a girl who’d moved here to this toxic, magical place against her own wishes, and who generally didn’t belong amongst the population of Elfhame. It drove him stark insane that she ignored him, rebuffed his commentary on her written work when he gave it, and altogether thought him stupid, not worth much in the way of friendship. In his softer moments, weaker moments, the old Cardan would have given damn near anything to have her eyes fixed on him, whether the feeling in them burned bright or swallowed him in hellfire. So when Garrett and the Roach approached him, asked him if he could “date” Jude so Garrett could take out her sister Taryn, Cardan jumped at the opportunity.

If only he’d had the premonition to recognize his feelings for the truth they were: love.

If he had the words on his tongue describe how much he felt for Jude, Cardan wouldn’t even know where to begin to let loose the flurry of thoughts and feelings sitting there, lying there in waste for not being spoken. 

(Jude might’ve made the right decision in avoiding him.) 

But here she was, sitting in her usual seat, hair twisted into those beguiling little horns on the top of her bronzed head. A white, loose tee covered her upper body, billowy and soft just like she preferred for the hotter weather of Elfhame, and a sturdy denim skirt lay flat against her long legs. Brown eyes usually as soft towards him as the day was long were instead fixed firmly on the striped oak wood of her desk, and as he watched, Jude trailed a thin finger into a smooth shape, although what, he couldn’t tell. 

_A heart?_ His own sang hopefully, and he wanted to squeeze his heart until it stopped talking so kindly, until it bled out everything he’d ever felt for Jude Duarte.

“All right,” Grimsen, their teacher, rasped, the sound like that of fresh wood crackling over a fire. “I assume everyone has found time to finish their poem.” 

A quick glance around would’ve told him the answer, but instead, Grimsen’s gaze was drawn to Locke, who sported a rather large pair of black sunglasses on his brow. Cardan could see Grimsen’s mind churning, a joke, curse, or philosophical utterance on his lips. Instead, though, proving just how little Cardan knew about the man, he smiled slyly. “Except for Mr. Fox—“ The teacher’s lips curled into a rather cruel smile, disdainful if anything else. His chuckle was the only sound in the room. “—who has an excuse. Shaft, lose the shades.” 

While everyone else watched Locke reveal his broken nose, Cardan kept his eyes on Jude. She didn’t turn around, and stared down at her desk, this time tracing another shape into the wood. 

He found himself following her fingers with his own, mindlessly connected, even if she wanted nothing to do with him.

What he wouldn’t give to have her face him, yell at him, come closer. 

_Come home._

Grimsen spoke again. “All right, anyone brave enough to read theirs aloud?”

Silence. Faces turned to one another, apprehensive in the way that all students are when it comes to revealing the deepest of personal writings. Cardan hadn’t bothered to write anything; nothing would have distracted him from Jude and what he’d done, betraying her like that without her knowledge. Despite his prowess over the written word, his words, no matter the form, would’ve been meaningless, empty in the eyes of those for whom the words were not meant. 

“I will.” Jude murmured, raising her hand. 

_What?_

He glanced at her, the little peace he’d brokered within himself beginning to crack. 

Grimsen sighed loudly and rolled his eyes skyward. He and Jude had always been mildly contentious, each having an opinion that the other often opposed but feared not passionately expressing. “Lord, here we go.” He snorted and moved off the podium.

Cardan’s eyes trailed Jude’s tongue as it licked her soft, plush lips, felt a searing urge sweep through him when she bit down on her lower lip, and only then did he realize she was getting up, up, up, and making her way to the very front of the classroom. 

Her gaze mets his only once, briefly, like a fluttering moth drawn to a warm, gilded light. Furiously, she glanced down at her notebook, and swallowed before beginning. Or tried to, at least. Her fingers found a loose curly wisp of hair and tucked it behind her ear, a show of nervousness Cardan wouldn’t have thought she had based on her bravado and sheer bullheadedness. She swallowed again, and he saw her eyes flicker to him once more, just as short as the previous time. 

“I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair.” Jude’s voice was a low droll, growing steadily louder and softer with every passing word. “I hate the way you drive my car, I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme.” 

A soft chuckle then, derision and self-deprecation in its origin. _Oh, Gods._

Jude swallowed again, and this time, her voice grew thicker, quieter, gentler, more than it had ever been in their time together. “I hate it… I hate the way you’re always right, I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry.” She broke then. Her body curled in on itself, as if protecting from a furious punch, her lashes became heavy with the weight of her watering eyes, her brown eyes, normally so mulish and unafraid, were awash with some unspoken emotion. Horror was a tidal wave that swept him under, drowned him in her embarrassment, her fear, her love, and her despair. “I hate it when you’re not around and the fact that you didn’t call.” 

_Jude. Jude. Jude._

_JudeJudeJudeJudeJudeJudeJudeJudeJudeJude._

"But mostly, I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.” A tear slid down her rosy cheek, its glimmering residue the only evidence that the seemingly-unbreakable Jude Duarte had in fact been broken.

By him.

Cardan had broken her, and instead of lashing out, of attacking him, of belittling him, like he’d expected her to, she’d simply spoken true.

No one seemed to have a response to her heart laid bare. Grimsen seemed a little miffed, if not a little stunned by the revelation; Locke’s mottled nose barely twitched, and Nicasia and Valerian, sitting a few rows over, only gawked at her. 

Jude, for her part, didn’t stay long to bask in the silence, in the control she’d wrought over the room. Her feet were moving before he could stop her, grabbing her bag and fleeing the room. His feet, by other matters, were rocks dragging him down to the bottom of the sea he’d created himself. 

What had he done?


	2. best friends au part i

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jude Duarte would never, ever, call herself stupid. 
> 
> But sitting on a stool at her favorite bar with a Blue Moon halfway to her lips and eyes glued to her best friend as he flirts with people, smiles with his whole face, and runs his hand through his stupidly messy curls when all she wants to do is do that herself? 
> 
> Yeah, she’s pretty stupid. Pretty stupid for _him_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "I'm in love with my best friend."

Jude Duarte would never, ever, call herself stupid. 

But sitting on a stool at her favorite bar with a Blue Moon halfway to her lips and eyes glued to her best friend as he flirts with people, smiles with his whole face, and runs his hand through his stupidly messy curls when all she wants to do is do that herself? 

Yeah, she’s pretty stupid. Pretty stupid for _him_.

(Now that she’s really thinking about it, there might have been a few more times she was called stupid. Most notably, there was that one bully in her third grade class who called her that at recess after she’d tried to stop his dictatorial reign over the slide for Taryn, but Cardan had helped her push him into the thorn bushes upon seeing Jude’s tear streaks glistening on her face, and, well, nobody ever called her names after that.)

It’s kind of pathetic, really, that she’s just staring at him like this. It’s not like he’s perfect, but still. His arms are crossed in that suave masculine way, lithe, slender biceps coming close to pushing against his sleeves as he chats up this beautiful girl, and when he smiles, a set of white teeth reveal themselves, dauntless and inviting in a way that Jude herself has yet to define. The blue vest he wears clings to him in a way that should be outlawed, the white sleeves underneath puffy and luminescent against his skin, and unruly, dark curls atop his head bounce when he tips his head back to laugh. 

Jude can hear his laugh from all the way across the bar, and if she were a better person, her heart probably wouldn’t twist so much when his beautiful smile presents itself to the girl. 

But yet, here she stands, just generally being a mess about him.

She’s sure she looks like an idiot— her mouth has got to be pretty much wide-open, and she might have very wide eyes at the sight of the girl Cardan’s currently flirting with wrapping her perfectly manicured hand around his bicep. He smiles at her, easy, and Jude’s heart flips. 

Again—pathetic. 

The Bomb’s there, like she always is. Liliver doesn’t skip bars nights like Jude does, mostly because the emotional toll of her job can be a bit much, and, according to her, there’s nothing better than not remembering her job and the way some people take her to task for the way she does it. She likes to drink her problems away, and Jude, being the good roommate and best friend that she is, follows along, breaking up Liliver’s self-provoked fights and paying her tab when the girl is too inebriated to do it herself. 

But this time, instead of drinking her weight in whiskey, Liliver is pressing the line of her body into Jude’s side, eyes curious but wary. Jude can tell that she’s concerned from the way her whole face is pinched, and her two front teeth are tugging her bottom lip a little into her mouth. 

“Rough night?” She asks, curious, soft, dark hands pressing another cold beer into Jude’s own. 

Jude didn’t even notice her beer had gone a little warm, but thankfully Liliver did. She’s going to need more alcohol after this. 

“Just a little bit.” She mumbles and takes a healthy swig of her beer, managing to wince only slightly at the taste. “It hurts a little. That’s all.” 

Liliver’s eyes are sympathetic. “I know, Jude,” she says, and leans forward, wrapping an arm around Jude’s shoulders. Her mouth ends up near Jude’s cheek, and the breath tickling it reminds her of Cardan’s eyes, warm only when directed at Jude.

It’s then that Jude notices the dilation of Liliver’s eyes, the way her lids are drooping closed, and how her body gently sways in time to the music. 

"“You is kind. You is smart. You is important!” She announces, pushing her forehead into Jude’s shoulder. An errant finger pushes into Jude’s cheek, steadily growing rosier in the din of the bar. 

Of course—she’s drunk. Drunk Liliver always quotes _The Help_ when she’s drunk; it’s her least favorite movie because "the white savior trope is so _dumb and harmful,_ Jude!" but "the sentiment is important!" (When she’s sober, her favorite movie is _Die Hard_ , although Jude’s pretty sure _You've Got Mail_ is her real favorite.) 

“Okay, Lil,” she says, gentle, putting her bottle down on the counter beside them. “We’re gonna take an Uber home now, okay? You’ve had enough.” 

“Okay,” Liliver slurs, “The Roach wasn’t here anyway, so it was a night wasted.” She giggles a little at her own pun. 

Jude snorts and rolls her eyes, fond, and she presses a hand to Liliver’s shoulder, guiding her towards the door. 

As she’s heading out, she meets Cardan’s eyes over the head of the guy he’s chatting up. 

“Headed out,” she mouths. “Close up our tab?”

He nods, waves a little, brows furrowed in what is very clearly concern, and Jude can’t help but want to push her thumb in the middle of them to smooth out the crease.

The Uber arrives quickly, thankfully, because Jude’s not sure she can support a flailing Liliver without more than two hands. Once they’re in the car, however, Liliver mumbles again into Jude’s shoulder: “You is kind. You is smart. You is important,” and Jude, a little selfishly, thinks she’s right about all of them.

Well, except the second one. 

Except when it comes to one Cardan Greenbriar. 

She’s pretty stupid about him. 

*******

But just because she’s pathetically stupid about Cardan doesn’t mean that she shows it. 

In fact, she’s pretty good at hiding her feelings, especially when he drapes his arm over her shoulders to pull her closer in the booth that they’re sharing with their friends, or when he presses a kiss to her temple after she schools a couple guys at the bar in pool, or even when he holds her hand in the movie theater after Jyn and Cassian hug and die and she just can’t hold in the tears anymore. 

But her feelings are building up, and if she doesn’t tell him soon, she’s probably gonna explode, and it isn’t going to be pretty. 

But then again, it’s Cardan, and her feelings are _always_ explosive around him, mostly because he likes to argue every single point she ever makes about literally anything, and he’s just so _wrong_ that she has to correct him, which leads to more bickering, and yeah, her competitive streak is a little debilitating to her personality, sue her. She still has friends. 

However, it’s Cardan, and she can never back down from one of his challenges. 

It’s a Saturday night, and they’re all at the Court of Shadows, the dingiest, most neon, and cheapest bar in town, nursing drinks and watching as Vivi absolutely crushes Taryn at darts, when Cardan drops his head to their table with a loud thunk. 

“God,” he groans, the sound muffled with his arm in the way. “I’m way off my game tonight.” 

Jude arches a brow at him. “Your game?” She pokes him in the shoulder, and he shifts towards her, grumbling. The movement brings him closer to her, his next words almost a purr that Jude furiously ignores.

“The girl I’ve been making eyes at all night just left with another guy,” he says, and takes a long, slow sweet sip of wine. “And here I thought I wouldn’t be going home alone.” 

She knows her heart’s going to clench before it does, but she ignores it. Instead, she says, “Well, the night’s still young. You have plenty of time to get someone else to go home with you.” 

Cardan’s looking at her when she lifts her head up from where she’s been seriously focused on peeling the label from her beer bottle. “You’re awfully positive.” 

“Well, there’s time!” She protests. “It’s not like I’m never positive!”

Her best friend gives her a look, eyes dancing with something she can’t quite name. 

“At least I’m realistic,” Jude mumbles. “But you could still get one! Everybody wants to flirt with you! They practically line up for their turn!"

His chuckle is a little dark. “But I don’t want to flirt with _everyone_.” 

Huh. Jude sobers a moment. “You mean you just want to flirt with the cute ones?”

Dark eyes meet hers for a fleeting second. “Ideally, yes. A good conversation to go along, too.” 

“You can’t completely get to know a person in one conversation. You’ll have to meet up again— hence the phone number.”

“But what if I just want a conversation?"

“Then flirt with someone, and get their number to continue the conversation post the first impression!” 

“It’s hard to get a phone number, _Ju-de_.”

“No, it’s really not, _Car-dan_.”

“Then why haven’t you gotten one?” He asks, and she freezes.

_Literally everyone in this room knows why I haven’t gotten anyone’s phone number, Cardan, but you’re so blind you can’t even see that you’re the reason why._

Carefully, she dips her eyes down to her bottle, forcing her fingers to peel at the label instead of yanking him towards her for a kiss. “I’m the designated driver,” Jude says, prim, and Cardan scoffs. It’s a haughty thing, and Jude still wants to kiss him for it. 

“Yeah, right. You probably couldn’t get one number. You’re still not over Locke.” He says, and immediately, once his words register, a mixture of fury and annoyance bubbles in her stomach. 

How. **Dare. _He_**.

_I am SO over Locke. I’m over him because I realized my feelings for Cardan will NEVER go away, so I’m just going to pine forever and then die!_

“You wanna bet?” She snaps, sharp and increasingly bitter, and Cardan looks slightly taken aback. His eyebrows do that thing she hates, furrowing like he’ll never understand why what he’s just said has caused her to react in such a way. 

“Sure.” He leans forward, big brown eyes searching hers. “I bet you can’t even get one number tonight. No, wait, I bet you can’t get an actual number from someone tonight.” Cardan’s eyes glint under the dim lighting of the bar, and Jude really, really wants to kiss him. 

But she can’t, certainly not now. 

“Deal,” Jude says, and sticks her hand out. They shake, and Jude does everything she can to suppress a shiver at the warmth his big hand radiates onto hers.

“Alright, Princess, take your pick.” Cardan gestures to the entire room, and almost immediately, Jude sees him. 

He’s sitting in the back, head down, eyes glued to his phone. If anything, he looks bored as hell, and she thinks that he’s playing Flappy Bird. She smiles. 

Already, she’s kind of fond of him. Anyone who still has Flappy Bird on their phone is someone worth talking to. 

“Found him!” Jude smirks at Cardan, whose eyes are wide in a way that seem to say, Already? But before he can say anything else, she’s off, striding across the bar with a sense of purpose she didn’t have before. 

She flops down beside the guy just as he lifts his glass to take a sip of his drink, eyes still on his phone. 

“Hi there!” She says, and he promptly chokes on his beer. 

“Hi…?” says the guy, tentative, and his fingers clench white around his glass, almost as though he’s readying to run. She leans closer to him, and, after a beat, he does too, clearly still wary of her. 

“So listen,” Jude starts, before quickly realizing she has no line prepared. 

For someone who considered herself quick-witted, she was surely falling flat on her face now. 

“So, uh, are you Google?” She pauses, watching his face, and when he furrows his brows at her, she finishes: “Because you’re everything I’m looking for.” 

She should’ve known better than to use one of Liliver’s terrible pick-up lines, because almost immediately, the guy bursts out laughing. 

It’s a nice laugh, too—hearty and warm. If she weren’t already stupid in love with Cardan, this guy would certainly have more appeal.

“I’m sorry!” He wheezes, hand on his chest as he struggles to catch his breath. “I, uh, I know you’re hitting on me, but I’ve just been stood up, and that’s simultaneously the funniest and the worst line I’ve heard. Ever.” His chuckle makes the corners of her mouth tick up. 

“Well, yeah. I stole it from a friend, but now that I’ve used it, I’m not sure how she ever got laid with that one.” Jude grins at him, sticks her hand out. “I’m Jude Duarte.” 

The guy smiles back at her. “Garrett Larkin. People call me Ghost.” 

It’s quiet for a beat, not uncomfortably so, and Jude’s thinking of something to say when he speaks. “So why did you come over to my table, Jude?” He asks, smirking at her. “Feel the need to rescue the dude in distress?” 

“If by in distress, you mean ‘playing an app that was all the rage a couple years ago and dramatically dying at every underpass,’ then yeah, I was definitely rescuing you.” 

Garrett snorts, derisive. “Well, like I said. Stood up.” 

She’s not surprised when a pang of some emotion hits her stomach; she _likes_ Garrett, and already, she wants to see more of him. “Well, my friends and I are over there,” she jerks her thumb behind her, feeling the interested gazes of her friends (oh god, _Cardan_!) on her as she does. “If you want to come and hang out with some pretty dorky but pretty awesome people, you’re more than welcome too. I think Vivi and Heather could probably help you beat your high score on Flappy Bird.”

Garrett’s eyebrows furrow, and then he’s grinning at her again. “Yeah, uh, I’d really like that. Thanks, Jude.” 

She beams at him. “No problem, Garrett.”

“So, is there anything I need to know?” He asks as they stand up, making to head over. “Maybe like why that dark-haired guy is watching us so intently?” Garrett nods his head in the direction of her friends, and she doesn’t need to glance over to know who he’s talking about. 

“Oh,” she mumbles, as a feeling of utter shittiness washes over her. Garrett, concerned, looks down at her, and she sighs. 

“Look, I’m in love with him.” Jude says, and Garrett nods like he understands. “But it’s not reciprocated, and to make him feel better about not going home with anyone yet tonight, we made a bet that I couldn’t get anyone’s real number either. So I came over to you to prove a point.”

This time, Garrett watches her, eyes unreadable. 

“But, uh, I’m an asshole, and once I got talking to you, I couldn’t play you like that. That’s rude, and terribly, terribly mean, and I promise I was going to give this speech to you earlier, but we got to talking—“

“Jude,” Garrett interrupts, and she stops, refusing to look up at him until she feels a gentle poke on her shoulder.

All of her panic deflates out of her almost instantaneously when Garrett smirks down at her. 

“I believe you.” He says, and relief floods through her. It’s then that he reaches toward her, palm out. “Give me your phone.”

She does, and she literally cannot believe her eyes as he programs his number into her phone. 

“I know a thing or two about unrequited love,” is all he says, and from there, it’s easy: Garrett folds into their little group of delinquents as though he’d grown up with them. She introduces him to her friends, and Vivi and Heather take an immediate liking to him. Taryn is the only one who is a little bit more wary (she’s always been the most suspicious of them all), but by the end of the night, she’s laughing at something Garrett has on his phone, touching his arm and blushing furiously, and Jude thinks, yeah, this might be all right.

Just before closing, she plops down into the seat next to Cardan, who, for some reason, is staring hard at his phone. She nudges him with her elbow, and he only scowls harder.

“Are you mad because you didn’t get a number?” asks Jude, and Cardan’s head whips towards her, unruly curls pressed closer to his head than they had been earlier that night. 

He pauses, eyes meeting hers, and she is struck by the sheer depth of emotion she sees there. But the emotion’s gone before she can think much more about it, and he’s a little grumpy when he tells her yes.

But for a second, she thought he might have been ready to say no. 

She wonders why, yet doesn’t say anything to Cardan as he leads her out of the bar. 

Still, Jude doesn’t see the way Cardan hesitates before putting a hand on the small of her back, and clenches his fingers a little before releasing them. She doesn’t see his heavy sigh, his hard swallow, or the way his eyes fixate on the back of her head.

(Oh, what he would give for her to see his face.)

She misses it all.


	3. best friends au part ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Jude had had her own way, her own wedding, it would’ve been different. 
> 
> || Part II of the Best Friends AU ||

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *dumps whatever this is at your feet* I'VE SAT WITH THIS FOR TOO LONG. Y'ALL CAN HAVE IT. 
> 
> Part III coming... soon...?
> 
> Also, side note: My little brother's name is Garrett, so this was weird to write. Lol.

The most deplorable thing about weddings is, absolutely, the dresses. 

Frankly, Jude could’ve done without the huge, poofy tulle, the puffed sleeves, and the stupid, ever-insufferable heels. She could’ve done without her hair pinched with hundreds, if not thousands, of pins, her cheeks pinched and layered with pink rouge, and thick kohl lining her eyes and sliding down into her tear ducts as the day goes on. She isn’t as dainty as Taryn, either, so the heels blister and knock her off balance; when Jude walks, she _walks_. _Thunders_ , Cardan would tease. The Earth feels her footsteps as she moves; flowers bloom opposite the sun, just to hide from her shadow, creatures hear the stomp of her boots against the grass and scatter to their hidden homes, and the trees sing their own warning with the bustle of the breeze: _Jude Duarte is coming. Stay out of her way_.

But Taryn’s wedding is the product of Elfhame’s finest: sweet, dark wines served in glittering chalices, chocolate truffles dipped in jams and jellies, and fresh veggies and fruits piled so high atop a silver tray that Jude isn’t completely sure she can see the top. A silver walkway leads the way to the altar, and a beautiful arch, resplendent with blue and purple flowers covering every opening, stands proudly in the middle, awaiting the moment Taryn and Garrett say, “I do.” 

If Jude had had her own way, her own wedding, it would’ve been different. For starters, her dress wouldn’t be white, perhaps a dark gray that sparkles when touched by the moonlight of the eve. It would be slim fitting, long enough to hide the bruises and scabs on her knees from her MMA classes but short enough for her to move in. She would dress as herself as much as she could (as much as Taryn would let her): comfortable boots, maybe, or a pair of dusty black Converse with ‘JUDE’ etched by Cardan in the soles. There wouldn’t be a need for the hairpins, or the bits and bobs that glittered now in Taryn’s hair, because if Jude were marrying someone, she’d marry them as she was, as open and herself as she wanted them to be with her. 

Not that Taryn and Garrett weren’t marrying each other. They were. 

It just seemed—well, too much, if Jude really had to put a word to it. Too glamorous, like they were covering something up. 

But this is Taryn’s affair, gawdy and shiny and royal as it was. Jude doesn’t get to have an opinion. 

“How many more pins?” She asks, pressing yet another pin into Taryn’s updo, the thing coiffed and polished and far too stiff for her own liking. “Vivi or Heather’s going to have to run to the store to grab more if I try to fit anymore in this... beehive.”

“Don’t rope me into this!” Vivi’s voice comes from across the room where she is fruitlessly trying to tie a Windsor knot around her neck. Her suit, a deep blue with black lapels, matches Jude’s own dress, another tulled monstrosity that sweeps out around her hips like a bell. The upper half is a corset (Jude curses the day Taryn chose these dresses—how the _hell_ is she going to breathe?) immaculately and painstakingly detailed with a few fake diamonds. When she’d seen it on the mannequin, Jude thought it was the night sky personified. 

Her own eyes, her twin’s eyes, stare back at her in the mirror. “I don’t know. Perhaps a few more?” Her sister brushes away an errant flyaway, the corners of her lips turning up in a half smile. Jude can’t help but smile back. “I want to make sure it doesn’t move if the wind blows.” 

“That’s what you get for having an outdoor wedding,” Vivi says dryly, arching a brow. Jude hears her snort as she comes up behind them and eyes Taryn’s hairdo. “Taryn, if she puts any more pins in there, it’s going to look like the trees you’re going to be standing under.” 

“Fine, fine!” Taryn huffs, her eyes rolling in tandem with her words. Her wave off is a smidgen patronizing, but she does manage to stand without falling over. Hands shaking, although Jude can’t tell if it was from nerves or from something else, Taryn brushes down her gown and looks at them both. “How do I look?”

“Like a princess.” Jude blurts out. Taryn really does, like in one of those fairytales, someone who marries their prince and lives happily ever after.

Vivi’s cat eyes flicker up Taryn’s gown and then back down again. “I guess if Garrett’s intention is to marry up, he’s doing pretty well.” She shrugs as a sly smile forms on her lips. 

Taryn turns a beet red, coughing lightly, and brushes yet another hand down her dress, stopping this time on her abdomen. 

In the last few years, given their rocky relationship, Jude hadn’t had much practice reading Taryn’s facial expressions. But now, the paleness and fear crawling up her face is unmistakable. “Taryn—” She starts. 

“When does this shindig start?” A voice rises from the doorway. “If it’s going to be any longer, I’m going to start day drinking.”

All three turn to look at the mass of curly hair that appears around the corner, its owner’s face popping around just seconds behind. Jude can’t help that her eyes immediately seek out his own, or that they drift across his face, taking in every bit of him. Should she ever lose him, at least she’d have this memory. Cardan is like a marble statue, carved exquisitely, polished to a shine. How he walked down a street without every single person stopping and gawking at him, wondering if he’d deign to spare them a glance, Jude doesn’t know. Cardan’s jaw—oh, his _jaw_ — is smooth as glass, and Jude can see how his long lashes lift from his face to stare at her. Half-lidded, his dark eyes meet hers only momentarily, flicking down to her dress, from the high heels to the tight bodice. When they find hers again, there is something there, something dark and deep and tinted with fear.

She thinks she might have seen him swallow. Hard. But— _no_.

Jude has no idea how much time passes in those moments, only knows that she can’t move, _couldn’t_ move, couldn’t look away. The wind could’ve turned into a hurricane, blistering, violent, and devastating, and it wouldn’t have moved her. She wouldn’t have moved for _anything_. Cardan’s eyes root her to the spot. 

But what’s in them scares her far more than anything she’s ever felt before.

“Cardan!” Taryn yelps, darting over to him and throwing her arms around him. Cardan’s face pales; his mouth drops open a little in surprise. He hugs her back tentatively, eyes wide as Taryn swings him a little with the force of her hug. 

_Help me_ , his eyes beg.

Jude smirks, and shakes her head. _No way. It’s her day._

Behind her, Vivi snickers. 

Taryn pulls away from Cardan, again smoothing her dress down and letting her hand stop ambiguously to her abdomen. “Guess I should go, eh?” She smiles at them, although it wobbles. 

Jude steps forward. “Taryn—” She tries. Taryn meets her eyes, pausing.

Not now, her sister’s eyes say. So Jude nods, and watches as Vivi steps forward to link arms with Taryn. 

“We’ll give you five minutes before we walk,” Vivi whispers to Jude, nudging her with a sharp elbow to the ribs. “Remember—the bride goes last, Jude.”

Taryn’s lips curl in the tiniest of smiles. Her gaze flickers once to Jude, then Cardan, who had stepped forward to stand next to Jude. Then, with Vivi tugging her along, they disappear around the corner. 

“So, uh,” Jude swallows. Her skin feels suddenly sticky, as if slathered with a thin sheen of honey. If the temperature of the room rose, she probably wouldn’t even notice. “Is everyone else ready to go?” 

“Yes.” Cardan murmurs, eyes looking up to hers. “They’re all waiting.” 

“Oh.” _Fuck_. She swallowed again. _This is too much_. “We should go; no use in keeping everyone waiti—” Her feet stumble towards the door, unused to the height of the heels. 

_I’m like a baby deer in these_ , Jude thinks just before the tip of the heel catches in a crack in the floor, and she falls forward—

—landing right into Cardan’s arms. He had moved quickly, silently, but catches her surely, long fingers wrapping around her wrists and holding her steady. 

Jude looks up at him for what feels like the first time, held securely in his arms. For all of Cardan’s faults, he would never drop her.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” His voice is brusque, sharp, when it comes out. She hasn’t heard that tone from him in a while, not since they’d become friends. 

“No, I haven’t.” She hears the slippery slope that is denial die on her tongue.

“Really? Are you certain? I seem to remember you taking one look at me this afternoon and bolting without even a hello.” Cardan furrows his brows, face darkening.

Jude remembers that. Cardan had been standing outside the venue when Jude arrived, looking absolutely dashing in his tuxedo. Crisp and pressed, it had lain against his body at all the right places, and it had taken damn near everything in Jude not to march up to him and smack a kiss to his lips.

Just as she had last night at the bachelor-bachelorette parties. 

Which he had been so drunk during.

Which had caused him to smile at her goofily and her heart to nearly explode in her chest. 

Which was why she kissed him.

A kiss he didn’t obviously remember. Because if he had, he would’ve said something, because Jude’s stubborn in a way he is not. She is not going to lose her best friend over something as trivial and stupid as her unrequited feelings, no, no. If she’s going to lose Cardan, it’s going to be for a significant reason, like they had fought over a way of writing or illustrating that didn’t fit their book, or that Cardan started dating Nicasia again, or, she doesn’t know, something else. Not something this bloody _stupid_. Not her damn feelings. 

So she bolted.

Damn, she’s waited too long. Her words slide out of her mouth as she replies, “Taryn needed me,” which was true. A half lie, one of obfuscation and omission.

Cardan arches a brow. “Taryn walked in ten minutes after you.”

“That’s beside the point!” Her sputter is pitiful, and both of them know it. 

She can’t look at him. Unlike Cardan’s, anyone can read anything on Jude’s face. (“Usually anger!” Vivi’s cheerful voice says in the back of her mind.) A stranger could take one look at her face right now and know the depths of her feelings for Cardan. 

Well, except maybe Cardan himself, because if he loved her or even remotely reciprocated her feelings, surely he would’ve said something by now.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter. She’ll just have to keep her gaze on her shoes for the entire wedding, damned as they are.

“What did I do?” Cardan asks softly. The softness is something Jude wants to curl up in, cloak herself and surround herself with, but if Jude didn’t know him so well, she would have thought she had also heard heartbreak in his tone. 

“Nothing.” With a jerk, she is out of his arms, putting one foot in front of the other as she tenuously stepped out the door. The hallway outside was clear of any people, and that was good—she could keep her head down and not bump into anyone. No one needs to hear this conversation. “It’s all me, this time.” 

“What are you talking about?” Before she takes any more steps to the outside doors, Cardan strides in front of her, blocking her path. “You haven’t done anything to me.” He looks wild now, desperate in a way she’s never seen. His eyes might even be a little blurry if she squinted.

Jude opens her mouth. To rebuff him, she reminds herself. This _friendship_ can only be preserved if she never admits to her feelings. And she can’t lose him. He’s her best friend. The only one she can even trust.

But Cardan’s eyes, deep and focused on her, are fierce with that... _thing_ , that emotion she can’t quite place. 

_He’s begging me_.

So she takes a breath. It is a deep one, full of lethargy, reluctance, and fear. Resignation, too, all wrapped into one. 

Because he’s her best friend, because she loves him more than anything, she’ll tell him.

“I haven’t done anything to you yet,” Jude says. “But I will. Once I can’t hold it in any longer. You’ll not forgive me, and I’ll lose you.” She sighs and lets her shoulders drop, relaxes the instinctive fighting stance she’d found herself in. “I always knew I would, because _everyone falls in love with Cardan Greenbriar_. I’d hear the whispers about it when I first moved here, the outsider in this strange place, and they whispered it again when you and I became friends and I found myself always at your side. You always laughed when people asked you out, or smirked when someone flirted with you, and I knew then you didn't want that. Might never want it with anyone, because you were so content just to be yourself, and the only person I knew you'd dated was Nicasia, who I was nothing like. I swore to myself I wouldn’t fulfill the prophecy, because you’re my best friend and I couldn’t—can’t lose this, but here I am, all these years later.” 

She feels rather than sees Cardan breathe, as close as he is to her, but Jude doesn’t dare look up. Brown eyes drift to his hands, clasped together so tightly and unmoving they look made of marble. 

“I love you. That’s what I’m trying to say.” The words dance from her lips into the air, a gentle puff of air she feels she might want to snatch back. 

“Jude…” A voice, almost ethereal in tone but firm in its volume, drifts to her. But she knows it, would know it anywhere. 

It’s not Cardan’s voice. 

She looks up, away, over Cardan’s shoulder to see Vivi standing there, resplendent in her suit and with a sad expression on her face. “It’s time to go,” Vivi says, the quietest Jude’s ever heard her. She looks a little devastated, too, much like how Jude feels.

Cardan hasn’t said anything.

Jude nods to herself once. Then again, jerkily. “Okay.” She glances up once at Cardan, whose mouth is half-open, face pale and impenetrable—well, she can’t really read his face. For once. Maybe she never has. 

All she knows is that he doesn’t say anything as she follows her sister out to where Taryn waits to walk down the aisle. He doesn’t say anything after the wedding is over, or at the reception, or even the day after. 

She feels his gaze on her nearly the entire time. 

But he still doesn’t say anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments make my day. I'm on [Tumblr](https://moprocrastinates.tumblr.com) at moprocrastinates and taking requests.
> 
> If you are in the U.S., please make sure you are registered to vote on Tuesday, November 3rd. You can register HERE: vote.org

**Author's Note:**

> comments are always appreciated!!! 
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](https://moprocrastinates.tumblr.com)!


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